Twelve Days of Xover Xmas
by Entwinedlove
Summary: Complete. / A collection of twelve holiday crossover stories in the HPU and MCU.
1. The Moose

**The Moose**

 _When Peggy, Bucky, and Sirius go on a mission for SSR, they get_ _caught in a snowstorm._

Pairing: Peggy/Bucky, Bucky & Sirius  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Pessimism About Survival  
Tropes: Bedsharing, Sirius Lives!, Bucky Lives!, Coworkers (SSR), Time Travel  
Words: 1,995  
Original Release Date: 14 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens between _Anomalies of Time_ chapters 2 ("Half-Cocked Plan") and 3 ("Deed I Do").

* * *

A moose. Jesus fucking Christ.

Bucky, Peggy, and Sirius had driven upstate and into the Adirondacks for their most recent case. It had taken about two weeks, total, for them to investigate the crime and present the evidence to the local police department when they realized what they'd been working on wasn't paranormal so much as a well-disguised case of jealousy-induced homicide.

The drive up had been pleasant despite the borderline freezing temperatures outside the car. The weather had even played nice while they were there. However, it was not playing nice as they drove back.

Bucky shivered as he looked out the window at the snow coming down fast and heavy. It wasn't even the pretty kind of snow with fluttering flakes; it was wet. Unfortunately, the texture of the white stuff falling from the sky didn't seem to have any effect on its ability to stick to the ground and every other surface available to it.

It was accumulating. Quickly. Faster than they were moving, at least. Peggy had shifted the car into a lower gear to deal with a road slick with ice but they were still a long way from home. They were a long way from anything, really.

And then it happened. A godforsaken moose emerged from the woods just ahead of them on the road and despite the slow speed, Peggy's control of the car slipped and they went careening into the ditch. Thankfully they hadn't slid across the road and off the side of the damn mountain.

Unfortunately, the impact caused enough damage to the car that it turned off and wouldn't turn back on.

Peggy had insisted that surely someone else would come along shortly and they would be able to flag the driver down and get the help they needed. Bucky had looked around at the snow-blowing wind and the white shit all over the ground and decided that snow would be the end of him eventually before suggesting one of them start walking to get help.

Sirius offered, saying he had spells that could keep him warm but returned an hour later as a dog, shivering and whimpering like someone had kicked him.

As the sun was starting to set and the snow was just piling higher, Bucky was starting to think that maybe this was it. He and Peggy and Sirius-as-a-dog were all squished into the backseat of the crooked car, with Sirius laying over their laps. Before he'd set off, he'd conjured them a blanket but it wasn't doing much to keep their ears and noses from being cold. Peggy had laid her head on his shoulder and buried her face into the crook of his neck. Her breath, while she slept, was at least keeping that side of Bucky's neck warm.

"Heyo!" Someone called from outside the car.

Sirius perked up first, sitting up and setting down a sharp-clawed paw right on Bucky's lap. He swore and then scrambled from the car, waking Peggy up in the process.

"How long you been stuck down there?" the stranger asked. He was standing on the road next to a large pickup truck with chains on the tires, peering over the embankment at them.

"A few hours," Bucky called up. "Would you be willing to give us a ride? To someplace that's got a phone, maybe?"

"I reckon I can. Don't got a phone, though. I'll be able to take ya into town tomorrow or the next day, depending on the weather."

"As long as you've got heat, that sounds wonderful to me," Peggy said from where she'd crawled out of the backseat. Bucky turned around to help her climb back out of the ditch, following the path they'd made a few times when they'd first been stranded.

"Neither of you from around here, I take it?"

"Brooklyn," Bucky said, he patted his thigh and clicked his tongue. "Come on, Sirius." The black shaggy dog needed help up the embankment too. Bucky could have grabbed their suitcases from the trunk but didn't think it was worth it. They were wearing enough layers that they should be fine wherever this fella was going to take them.

Once Bucky was standing next to Peggy with Sirius at their feet, the stranger offered his hand to Bucky to shake. "Name's Clyde."

"Bucky. This is Peggy and," he dropped his hand and patted Sirius on the head, "this is Sirius. I hope it won't be too much trouble to bring him along."

"Of course, not. Though you might need to hold him back. My dogs might not take too kindly to him."

"He's very friendly. I'm sure he'll be fine," Peggy said. Clyde smiled at her, showing off a mouth of half missing teeth. He nodded at Bucky's claw. "You in the war?"

"107th Infantry," he said with the slightest bit of pride.

Clyde's smile firmed up as he nodded. "Well, come on," he said. He offered his hand to Peggy to help her into the cab of the truck and Sirius jumped in after her. Bucky followed even as he wondered if Clyde had been in the war. Normally, if someone asked, they would have offered their own division.

The truck cab was crowded. Sirius sat on Bucky's feet and Peggy's legs were in the way of the gear shift. She sat with her knees pressed together and digging into Bucky's thigh. The ride was uneventful, mostly, with Clyde getting the story about the moose out of them in bits and pieces. They even cobbled together their reason for being out of the comforts of the city in such bad weather without actually speaking to each other about it. They were a couple, with their dog, and they'd gone up to visit some of Bucky's family—his sister had had a baby—but he needed to get back to work in a few days.

Clyde's cabin was not much bigger than the apartment Bucky had grown up in. He had two tiny bedrooms and the living room and kitchen shared the same space. The bathroom was a small cubicle building some distance from the cabin with a crescent moon cut into the door. Bucky refrained from sighing, though he had hoped his days of shitting in the woods were behind him.

There was a wood stove roaring merrily in the corner that kept the entire place stuffy but so warm Bucky was ready to start shedding his layers after five minutes. Clyde offered them some leftover venison stew and Sirius some of his dogs' chow though Sirius didn't seem inclined to eat it. When Clyde wasn't looking, Peggy reached down and gave Sirius part of her bread, which he gobbled down and licked her fingers clean.

Shortly thereafter, when evening had set in completely and the darkness of night had clothed everything in inky blackness, Clyde bid them goodnight. Peggy, Bucky, and Sirius slipped into the second bedroom, where there was barely any room to walk. Sirius shifted and whispered as quietly as possible, "Do you think he's got anything other than deer-meat to eat?"

"What do you have against venison?" Peggy asked as she sat down on the bed to remove her shoes.

"You know how I go dog? My best friend went stag. Venison makes me queasy."

"I'm sure you could eat the broth? There were vegetables in it. Potatoes," Bucky offered.

Sirius nodded. "I'll dip a bowl and duplicate some without the meat then. That might be the best I can do, I guess."

Peggy's lips quirked. "What was wrong with the dog kibble?"

"Deer guts."

"Oh," she answered, wrinkling her nose.

"Yeah, me too. Well, I'll leave you two to... you know, be a couple." He winked in Bucky's direction, peeked his head out the door and crept back into the living room.

Bucky looked at the bed and Peggy, who was undressing further now that Sirius had left the room. "I... umm, I'll take the floor, I guess." She raised an eyebrow at him and then looked pointedly at the very little floor space available. "Or I'll sleep out on Clyde's sofa."

"And these are your only two options?" she asked.

He ducked his head and looked back up at her from under his lashes. Unlike what they'd told Clyde, they weren't a couple. They'd gone out on a double handful of dates, mainly dinner after work or dancing on one of their days off. He'd barely even kissed her. For the most part, he thought she indulged him when he asked out of pity rather than interest. She'd heard all about his ridiculous string of bad dates from their coworkers at SSR teasing him. After a moment, he asked, "Are they not?"

"You can get in this bed with me, you know."

"But I'm—" he shrugged a bit helplessly, gesturing mainly to his left arm and the prosthetic there.

She let her gaze travel deliberately from his face down his body. He could almost feel the heat from her look as she studied his chest and groin and legs. She unzipped her skirt and let it fall. He couldn't help but follow the material with his own gaze, trailing back up her legs to her slip. He watched as she did a complicated looking maneuver and removed her bra without letting anything show from under her slip. Then she crawled into the bed. She turned and gave him a look over her shoulder. "Well, are you coming or not?"

He almost choked on his tongue and fell over his own feet in his attempt to strip. He only slowed his hurried movements when it was time to remove his shirt. He wasn't quite dexterous enough to remove the prosthetic without removing his shirt but he was also a bit anxious about what his body looked like now.

"Bucky," she said. Her tone was soft but it reassured him. She was in the war just like him, had been there when he found out about Steve. Had been there when he'd felt so low he couldn't go on. He removed the shirt, and unbuckled his arm, setting it down in the corner so it wouldn't get banged up or broken. Like her, he kept his lowest layer of clothes on—his tee shirt and shorts—but that felt bare enough. She had turned away from him and he took the moment to rearrange his dick. He knew that they weren't stripping down for sex but his dick hadn't got the picture. Once he was as comfortable as he was going to get, he crawled under the covers with her. At first, he thought he'd be able to lay there without touching her but he soon realized that the bed was just too narrow for that. He scooted closer so the blankets would cover all of him and pressed his chest against her back. She hummed softly and said, "That's better. Goodnight."

He pressed a kiss to her shoulder and laid his arm over her waist. "Night," he muttered. The word had stuck in his throat. He took a deep breath and told himself to relax.

When they woke up it was to dogs barking and pots banging around. Bucky's sharp inhale upon waking had Peggy's tea and jasmine scented hair tickling his nose but when he registered how they were laying, he didn't want to move. They'd rolled over in the night. He'd ended up on his back and she had turned over completely and slipped down the bed, so her head was pillowed on his left pectoral and shoulder. He thought he'd have been more worried about what she would think of the scar tissue and the missing limb in general but the nervousness he'd felt last night was gone. Her eyes fluttered opened and when she realized where she was, she smiled. She pressed her lips to his chest over his shirt.

"Good morning?" he asked.

"Yes. I do believe so."


	2. Winter is Cold Here, Doll

**Winter is Cold Here, Doll**

 _It's Christmas on the war front and Bucky is missing_ _Hermione as he watches Peggy & Steve dance._

Pairing: Hermione/Bucky, Peggy/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: fluff  
Words: 500  
Original Release Date: 15 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot occurs concurrently with the last Christmas mentioned in "Signed, Your Sweetheart."

* * *

Bucky licked his lips and took another swig of his beer. He smiled to himself and watched his best friend sway back and forth on the makeshift dance floor. It was Christmas and the Tactical Team (with the technically-not-there Agent Carter) were camped out in an abandoned mansion here in France. He and Dum Dum had pushed all the furniture to the walls and Monty had sat at the piano. He claimed he only knew a few songs but that didn't matter. What mattered was getting Agent Carter and Steve to dance.

They'd both been adamant that they weren't going to, that they were planning on dancing when the war was over but Bucky cajoled them into it saying, "Make every day count." Steve had noticed the wistful look in his eyes and Bucky had just smiled and thought about how much he missed his wife.

He sat in the corner with a small notebook and pen. He'd written the greeting and first line—

 _My Best Girl Hermione,_

 _Merry Christmas to you too._

—but he kept getting distracted. Dum Dum was whooping and catcalling as Carter and Steve swayed on the floor and Jacques and Gabe were singing off-key with Monty's playing. Only Jim was missing. Bucky wondered where he was but focused again on the letter he was trying to pen to Hermione.

They'd got their orders and Agent Carter was to head back to London and they were to head to the Austrian Alps. Intel had said that Zola wasn't with the Red Skull and Phillips thought that capturing the little mad scientist was the best plan in order to learn where the remaining HYDRA bases were and what they could of the Red Skull's future plans. It sounded like a trap to Bucky. It sounded like a horrible plan and every time he thought about it his skin broke out into goosebumps and his breath got stuck in his chest. Or outside his chest, he couldn't tell. All he knew was the thought of going anywhere near Zola made him unable to breathe. And the thought of _Steve_ being anywhere near him scared him even worse.

He couldn't tell Hermione any of this, of course. So he referenced her last letter, about how Becca had saved a little boy and wrote about that. He shivered as he wrote and added a mention about the weather, because what else could he say? He looked up to see that Jim was just coming into the room, knocking snow off his boots and holding something low in his hands. It looked green, which seemed unusual for the time of year until he recognized what it was. Mistletoe.

Bucky tucked his pen and notebook into his jacket pocket and stood up. He was definitely into the idea of hanging that up somewhere and herding Steve and Carter under it. He'd finish his letter to Hermione later tonight and send it with Carter to mail when they parted ways in the morning.


	3. Ask and I'll Say Yes

**Ask and I'll Say Yes**

 _Bucky joins Hermione for a Weasley family Christmas and has his gift to her spoiled by a prank._

Pairing: Hermione/Bucky, Hermione/Ron (past)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: Accidental Marriage  
Words: 1,785  
Original Release Date: 16 Dec 2018

* * *

Bucky was feeling overwhelmed. He'd spent Christmas eve with his best girl, Hermione, and then spent Christmas morning with her parents—which, considering everything wasn't as bad as he was expecting. Her father had quizzed him on his intentions towards his little girl (his 37-year-old little girl) and her mother had gushed over his manners. It was still a surreal experience, especially when they took the fact that he was a formerly brainwashed assassin and WWII POW in stride. He supposed, when you were the non-magical parents of a witch, some weird things were to be expected.

Still, it wasn't until he and Hermione had said goodbye to them and had Apparated to the Burrow—home of her found family in the wizarding world—that things got to be too much.

Bucky wasn't that comfortable around crowds of people these days. The worst had been at his trial where he'd had an anxiety attack when he'd entered the courtroom. The Burrow had a lot of people in it. Chatty children were running between rooms, chasing each other. The Matriarch, Molly Weasley, was in the kitchen surrounded by pots and pans flying around like a whirlwind. Couples and the youngest of the children were in the main living room, all talking loudly in a multitude of conversations.

Hermione led him by the hand, weaving through all the people to meet the Patriarch of the Weasley clan, Arthur. "Hermione!" the older man said loudly, "Is this—what was it, Bucket, Buckeye?—Your fellow from the States?"

"Bucky," she corrected, speaking just as loudly. He was an older man with glasses that he wore halfway down his nose. He was clean shaven and the red had leeched from his hair.

"Bucky Barnes, this is Arthur Weasley."

"Pleased to meet you," Bucky said, matching his volume to hers even as he held out his hand for a shake.

Arthur grabbed it and pumped a bit longer than was necessary, though the smile on his face seemed particularly pleased.

Under her breath, Hermione whispered, "He lost most of his hearing in an accident at work and he's fascinated with Muggle things. If he notices your arm, he will pester you with questions."

He smiled and stuck his gloved left hand back into his trouser pocket. "Duly noted," he murmured into her ear. She grinned and tugged him to meet the next group of people around the room. While he smiled and chatted up each of the Weasley sons and their families, he let his fingers in his pocket play with what he'd tucked in there when he'd packed for this trip. A small band of silver with a delicate little diamond sitting on top. It was old, it had belonged to his grandmother, his mother, and his sister Becca before it had come back around to him. He wasn't even sure if she would like it or if it would fit, though he expected there was a spell that could fix that.

They hadn't talked about marriage yet. He wasn't even sure that was something she wanted. He'd learned early enough in their relationship that her first love—her ex-husband—was still a part of her life. He hadn't met him yet but he suspected the tall redheaded man in the corner who had been eying him for the past twenty minutes was Ron.

Finally, when Bucky and Hermione had made it around to the corner, Ron reached out and shook his hand, introducing himself before Hermione could. "Hi, I'm Ron. You must be Bucky."

"Yeah, Bucky Barnes," Bucky said. Ron's handshake wasn't quite as exaggerated as his father's had been but he did squeeze harder than was friendly. It didn't phase Bucky and he just smiled. He could have been petty and squeezed back but he didn't think breaking his girl's exhusband's hand was the best introduction to the family.

Before they could exchange pleasantries, someone called from the kitchen, "Who wants spiked eggnog! Don't drink yet, we're going to have a toast!"

Next to him, Hermione sighed. "That's George. He's a prankster. He owns and operates Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley. Last I talked with him, he said they might be opening up a new location in Hogsmeade since they cater so much to the younger demographic."

Bucky politely took one of the glasses of eggnog off the tray when George came by them and watched the same as Ron did as well. Hermione declined and George ribbed her. "Ah, come on, Hermione, I thought you liked eggnog." His grin was mischievous as he winked in Bucky's direction.

"I've learned not to take food and drink from you."

"You wound me, you do," George said even as he turned to move through the rest of the room.

Bucky didn't worry too much about whatever prank the man might play. As long as it didn't take away his hard-retrieved memories he figured it might be sort of fun. It probably wouldn't even affect him because of the serum.

Once everyone who wanted one had a drink in their hand. George cleared his throat and got their attention. "Happy Christmas to everyone here. I hope all of your wishes—or at least one of them—comes true for you soon." Bucky lifted his drink with the rest of them and took a sip.

Several people in the room gasped in shock. Arthur's hair had turned red again. Bill's hair had grown longer. His wife was holding a book that was titled: _How to Tell Your Partner You Want Another Baby._ Throughout the room, other small changes were happening to the people who had taken drinks from George.

Bucky came to the conclusion that whatever magic had been in the drink must not have affected him as he couldn't think of anything he'd been wishing for, much less feel anything different about himself. That was until he heard Hermione gasp behind him. He turned to her to make sure she was okay and found her looking at her left hand. On her ring finger were four rings: his family's engagement ring, a silver band that matched it, a golden engagement ring with a large diamond and a second band that matched that. She looked up at him with wide, worried eyes before she shouted, "George!"

Before much more could happen though, an owl flew to the window. Ron opened it and the owl swooped in, dropping a letter into Hermione's hands. She opened it and read aloud, "Congratulations on your triadic marriage! Here at the Ministry we are delighted for you and hope you're exceedingly happy in your union!"

The angry look on her face when she looked up was impressive. Bucky understood why his ring was on her hand now, asking her to marry him had been something he'd wanted to do. Maybe not quite so publically, though. But a triadic marriage? What the hell was that?

After staring at George who was looking a little nervous she turned and pinned her ex with the same immensely angry glare. "Don't think I don't recognize this," she said in a low-volumed hiss Bucky wasn't sure he was meant to hear. "We got divorced for a reason." She reached up with her right hand and tried to pull the rings off of her finger. They didn't come off.

"George, I swear to Merlin, if you don't reverse whatever magic you did..." she said as she tugged hard on her hand again.

"I didn't mean for it to be quite so elaborate, all right. The spell was just supposed to grant someone a wish from the heart," he said. He shrugged. "Sorry to, umm, ruin the surprise, mate," he said, tapping Bucky's left arm with the back of his hand.

Bucky checked his expression, fearful that he might have slipped into what Barton called _murderface_ but he was pretty sure he was okay. Maybe a little wide-eyed than he'd intended to be.

"George Weasley!" the Matriarch of the family called. All the quiet conversations halted as she stood in the doorway between the living room and the kitchen wielding a wooden spoon in one hand and her wand in the other. "Did you ruin this young man's engagement?" she asked, pointing the spoon at Bucky.

He almost snorted at the phrase _young man_ to describe him but caught himself.

"And what was that I heard about a _triad,_ Ronald?" Molly asked, turning her disappointed countenance to her youngest son.

Ron shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It wasn't intentional, Mum."

"George," Hermione said. Her anger had fled as she kept tugging at the rings on her finger. "Please, undo the magic. Ron and I divorced for a reason."

"I... umm, I don't know if I can? Though if you drink some eggnog, maybe since you don't want to be married it'll reverse it? I... I really didn't think it would react like that."

She tugged one last time on the rings that wouldn't budge and then held her hand out for the glass of eggnog. Before she sipped it she met eyes with Bucky and gave him a small little smile. She sipped the creamy liquid—which had been quite tasty—and looked back down at her hand.

The golden band and engagement ring disappeared first and Bucky realized he was holding his breath as he waited for his family ring to disappear as well.

It didn't. She reached down, slipped both silver bands off her finger, and handed them to him. He took them from her with his left hand and looked down at the small silver jewelry in his palm. He had a feeling he was frowning. "If you ask, I'll say yes but I understand if you'd rather not just yet," she whispered. He returned his gaze to her just as another owl flew into the room and dropped another letter in her hands. She opened it, read through it, inhaled deeply and nodded. She handed the letter to him and headed for the door outside.

 _Congratulations Hermione Granger on your recent (partial) Quik-Solution Divorce from Ronald Weasley! The Ministry is sad to see the dissolution of a magical union but we understand that sometimes circumstances call for a separation. Note, your union with Muggle James Barnes is still valid. As the Ministry automatically files Magical-Muggle unions with the British government, we cannot grant a Quik-Solution Divorce._

Bucky looked up and around at all the redheads and their families watching him, tucked the letter into his pocket, and sort of gave them all a nod. "If you'll excuse me," he mumbled before following Hermione outside.

He supposed he should probably propose... seeing as they were apparently newlyweds.


	4. A Brilliant Christmas Kiss

**A Brilliant Christmas Kiss**

 _At a Christmas party at Stark Tower Hermione finally gets a kiss from her beau._

Pairing: Hermione/Bruce, Bucky/Peggy/Steve (background)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: Anachronistic Thinking  
Tropes: fluff  
Words: 1,269  
Original Release Date: 17 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot is a sequel to "Aucterport."

* * *

"I was wondering, Miss Granger, if you'll accompany me to the upcoming Stark Christmas Party?" Mr Banner asked. His lips were quirked like the knew the answer—and he did, she'd been accepting courtship tokens from him for the last six months—but he still had to ask.

"Thank you, Mr Banner, I'd be delighted to attend the party with you," she said. She smiled as he doffed his hat and headed out of the shop.

"You two," Captain Carter said, rolling her eyes. She stepped beyond the shelves with a small stack of books in her hands and set them on the counter. "You'd think you'd get on with it already. You can't tell me you don't want to. I can see it on your face."

Hermione ducked her head to hide the blush prominent on her cheeks. Yes, she was particularly interested in progressing their relationship. "Mr Banner is a traditionalist, Captain. The few times Stark has implied impropriety, Mr Banner has coloured up more than me. I expect a proposal before anything gets physical."

"Hmm," Peggy hummed. "Seems a shame. You don't strike me as the traditional marriage-before-fun type."

"I never said I was," Hermione responded, though the blush hadn't left her features. She rang up the books for Peggy, who was giving her a knowing smirk, and took the coinage to finish the transaction.

"Well, good luck. Maybe a party is just what you need to push your beau's boundaries a little."

Hermione packaged up Peggy's books and handed them to her. "Thanks. Tell yours that I said hello and I hope they get well soon."

"I will. Bucky, in particular, was already unhappy about his need to stay on the ship. He instructed that I was to ask after your Mr Banner and make sure you were doing well. He's fond of you."

"Then tell him I am well and that I missed seeing him." Hermione was fond of Mr Barnes as well and charmed by his innocent flirting. She waved one last time to Peggy as the other woman left the shop and then relaxed back on her stool.

What was she going to wear to a Christmas party? Thankfully, the party would be a small affair, with invitations limited to only those who lived on the depot, but that didn't make it any less an elaborate affair. She supposed there was the violet dress that Harry had sent along with the autumnal supply dirigible. She could Charm it to a nice festive green and made add some lace details to the hem to modify it just enough to count as new.

* . * . *

A week later, Bruce came down to the shop as dusk was settling to escort her to the centre of the city. The lamp-lighter, Marsha, was out, casting spells at each of the posts to illuminate the street. Hermione waved at her and she curtseyed back.

"You look lovely tonight, Miss Granger," Bruce told her as they strolled up the spiral street.

"Thank you. You look fetching yourself, sir," she said, admiring his vibrant red waistcoat. His top hat was missing its typical goggles but in their place was a wide red ribbon that matched the colour of his waistcoat. They chatted about his work and the newest shipment of books Hermione had ordered until they reached the doors of the tower. Mr Jarvis greeted them and escorted them inside.

The party was like any other, though this time Stark had employed a wizard to animate the quartet so the instruments were playing themselves. Bruce looked particularly intrigued when he first saw them. They paused to watch and listen. "Can just any magical person do that or do they need to be trained like the musicians?"

"Wizards and witches take additional study to learn the musical arts. I believe the spell animates the instruments for the length of the song, with each song requiring a different spell. The conductor must have a repertoire of well-practised spells to produce a well-rounded concert," Hermione answered. She remembered the option of musical classes offered to witches at Dilys Derwent's Home and School for Girls when she resided there before her sponsorship. It was a mix of magical and mundane lessons on violin, piano, and voice for entertainment at dinner parties. She had not been interested.

Bruce asked Hermione to dance and she accepted, enjoying as he twirled her around the dance floor. After the song was over, they mingled with the party-goers. Madam Sprout was particularly chuffed to tell them that Stark had imported a wonderful array of plants for the season and suggested they go out on the porch to see them.

There was a magical dome extending from the veranda roof over the porch and down into the small garden beyond to keep the guests warm from the cold evening air. In large pots decorating the space were beautiful fir trees with shiny tinsel and delicate babbles.

While they were there, admiring the Christmas addition, other guests were joining them. Soon they heard Stark's voice, loud over the soft conversation. "Everyone out here, then? Good, good." He fumbled with a box in his hands near the railing before he opened it enough to work with what was inside. "Merry Christmas from those of us who live in Stark Tower to the rest of Aucterport!" he shouted as he did something inside the box.

All the Christmas trees with their lovely ornaments lit up, decorated with small bulbs of light on strings. It was beautiful and reminded Hermione of the candles the Potters would spell onto their own Christmas trees at home. They didn't twinkle like firelight but with the thousands of glass babbles and shiny tinsel, shifting slightly on one's feet gave them the same effect.

Guests all around them oohed and aahed at the marvellous sight and some of the couples even took the moment to indulge in a kiss. Nothing overly improper but enough to cause Bruce to flush and look away when he noticed. "Would you like to go back inside?" he asked.

"Not yet," she answered. She continued to marvel at the beautiful warm light and colourful decorations. "He said this was a present from those who live here in the tower. Did you help?" She asked, looking back at him. Behind him, she could see many of the other guests heading inside.

"I did. Tony's lady friend has a maid who happens to be a witch and when they visited at the beginning of the month, she decorated the inside of the tower with something similar. Little magical lights that wouldn't burn up the tree. Tony worked to create small versions of the Edison lightbulb and the power source for them while I worked on how to connect them all together." He had a little grin on his face that Hermione had come to recognise as his proud-of-himself smile.

"Well, they're brilliant. Thank you for sharing them with everyone." His smile morphed into one of tenderness and she felt overcome with emotion. "Bruce?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm going to kiss you now."

He blinked like he was flustered. "Miss Gran—"

"Hermione," she corrected softly.

"Hermione," he repeated. He swallowed and looked around. She took the opportunity to lean closer. "I, umm, are you sure? There's no one here—"

"I know," she said. She leaned the rest of the way in and pressed her lips to his. The tension in his shoulders melted. He brought his arms around her to hold her close and gave in to her kiss. When they parted some moments later she whispered, "Happy Christmas, Bruce."


	5. All American Christmas

**All American Christmas**

 _Tony gets de-aged and Hermione babysits. He helps her decorate for the holiday._

Pairing: Bucky/Hermione/Steve, Hermione & Tony, Steve & Tony, Pepper/Tony (brief mention)  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: fluff, de-aging  
Words: 1,339  
Original Release Date: 18 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens after "The Curtains Were Cotton and Lace" (chapter 10 of MCU HP Bingo 2018.)

* * *

Tony understood what had happened. He knew that the Avengers had been on a mission and he had opened his helmet because something had damaged the electronic communications in his helmet and he couldn't communicate with the rest of the team. While it was open, one of the bad guys had thrown something at his head.

The next thing he knew was that his suit was too big and he'd slipped into the body of it where it had started to strangle him. He'd woken up in a bed that he hadn't recognized and might have let out a little scream—just a little one. Hermione had come running.

His first thought was that she was bigger than he was, followed by the one he voiced, "How did the tower get so big?"

She gave him a small grin like he was adorable—just for the record, he was not adorable, thank you very much—and said, "What do you remember?"

It turned out that the thing the bad guy had tossed at his head had been a de-aging potion. According to Hermione, it should wear off after about sixteen hours from application, which was eight hours ago. His suit had basically put him in a sleeper hold before Cap had gotten to him.

Tony, after making sure the clothes he was wearing weren't weird Avengers kids clothes but something of his that looked like it had been shrunk, he followed her out of the bedroom and finally realized where he was.

"Why am I in your apartment? And more importantly, did you change the sheets so I wasn't sleeping on anything the three of you might have—"

"Tony," she said, turning around where she was in the kitchen. "I know you're still you in that body but do you think you can refrain from talking about sex while you look like you're eight?" She held up her fingers about an inch apart. "It's a bit weird."

He rolled his eyes at her.

"And to answer your questions, yes the sheets were clean, and you're in our apartment because Happy had to drive Pepper to a few appointments today and they couldn't babysit. And didn't want to hire a babysitter on short notice. They're bringing dinner later."

"Babysit! I don't need a babysitter! I'm a fully-grown adult!" he shouted, though as his body was that of an eight-year-old it did sound somewhat squeaky.

She rolled her eyes at him. "Just... I don't know, play pretend. Steve is in press meetings for most of the day and I sent Bucky to get some potions ingredients in case the de-aging potion doesn't wear off."

"I thought you said—"

"In case. I wasn't there and there wasn't enough of a sample on your suit for me to determine which variation of the potion it was. You're lucky those wankers didn't brew the potion that removes memories upon de-aging. I'd rather have the ingredients on hand if the potion doesn't wear off, that's all. Now," she turned and opened the cabinet. "I had plans to bake cookies and a red velvet cake today and decorate some for Christmas around the flat. You're welcome to join me."

He inhaled heavily and then let his shoulders drop. "I want to go to my lab."

"Or your welcome to watch TV while you sulk. Though, if you choose that option, I don't know if I'll be willing to share a batch of cookies just between us. I might save them all for after dinner when Bucky, Steve, Happy, and Pepper are here."

His jaw dropped. "But... but! I'm a kid; you've got to share warm out-of-the-oven cookies with me. That's like... a rule or something!"

She didn't do a very good job of hiding her smile. "Then you'll help me bake and decorate?"

He glared at her. "I guess. Will you make me one of my smoothies?"

She opened the fridge and pulled out one of his bottles, opaque with dark green smoothie. "If you can't finish it we can always put it back in the fridge." He rolled his eyes at her again but joined her in the kitchen.

* . * . *

When it came time to decorate, Tony was surprised that she gave him almost free reign. Whatever his imagination could come up with, she seemed willing to flick her wand and conjure. He expected her to draw the line when he suggested the hideous red, white, and blue Christmas tree JARVIS had shown him when he'd ordered decorations for the lobby. She asked JARVIS to show her the picture and then recreated the look on the normal Christmas tree she'd conjured. It was just as ridiculous looking in person as it was in the picture. He really expected her to change her mind and revert it back to green.

Instead, she giggled.

It was contagious. Really. It was all her fault.

After that, green was discarded in their decorating color scheme completely to be replaced with blue and white wherever they could add it. The garland hung over the mantle was white and lit with red and blue twinkle lights. The tree skirt was red and white stripes. The star on top of the tree was white and even the ornaments were decorated like little American flags. Tony knew all of this would drive Cap batty but to irritate Barnes, he suggested that all the ornaments be covered in glitter too.

He'd seen her smile before, she was one of the more optimistic members of the Avengers team, but he'd rarely if ever seen her mischievous like this, giggling with every new patriotic addition. He doubted he would admit it to anyone but he was having a blast.

Finally, as they were pulling the last batch of cookies out and sprinkling them with red and green sprinkles—she couldn't alter the color of them, unfortunately—the door opened and both the missing super soldiers that Hermione shacked up with came inside. Cap was carrying a few packages that Barnes must have passed over to him and they were having a quiet conversation between themselves. "Hey Hermione," Barnes said as they started walking through the room, "I got all the things you had on the list for the kid—" and then they both stopped and looked around. Cap's mouth even went slack when he got to the tree.

As one, they turned and looked at Hermione. Tony did too, where he was sitting on the counter next to the stove and the cooling cookies. She'd magicked an apron over her clothes that was also red, white, and blue and she had the sweetest smile on her face. Apparently, she _was_ capable of keeping a straight face when she wanted to.

"Hi, honeys, welcome home. Tony and I just finished the last batch of cookies. Happy and Pepper should be by in half an hour with dinner."

"Did you let Tony decorate?" Cap asked.

"He's been an awesome helper for me today." Her tone was overly sweet and the smile on her face reminded him of a 50s-Stepford wife. "Do you like it?"

Cap pursed his lips and nodded, seeming to acquiesce. Barnes, on the other hand, said, "Hell, no. Can you fix it?"

Then she burst into laughter so hard that she slipped to the floor to keep giggling. Tony giggled along with her. Cap and Barnes laughed too, with Cap looking around and shaking his head. "This is what we get, isn't it? Leaving these two together," he asked Barnes.

"I don't know, I think the mantle looks nice. If it was just red or blue lights with the white garland. Same for the tree. A compromise," Barnes said.

Cap nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. White and blue—"

"—Red."

They looked at each other and broke into laughter again.

Tony had a smile on his face and was intermittently giggling. This was surreal. He'd never seen this side of any of them, laughing like idiots. It was... heartwarming... in a way. He'd never admit it, though.


	6. Worth the Risks

**Worth the Risks**

 _Natasha is lonely and on the run. None of her more recent cuddle partners are available so she seeks out one she hasn't spoken to in years. He welcomes her with open arms and without judgment._

Pairing: Natasha/Charlie  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: bedsharing  
Words: 1,705  
Original Release Date: 19 Dec 2018

* * *

Of all Natasha's secrets that were uncovered when she dumped SHIELD-HYDRA's files onto the internet, she was glad one, in particular, wasn't. She'd always been very careful to hide it. Him.

They met in Ukraine while she was still working for the KGB. He'd been on vacation. They'd both been young and a little reckless and she didn't think she'd ever see him again.

Years later, as a part of SHIELD, she ran into him again in Bucharest. They exchanged telephone numbers but rarely spoke to one another.

But now, six months after the signing of the Accords, six months since the Avengers fell apart. Natasha was at wit's end. Normally the sentimentality of the holiday season didn't affect her but this year she really just wanted a warm body next to hers.

At one point it would have been Clint and Laura. At another, it could have been Bruce. Who she truly wanted now was of no consequence because he was heading to Wakanda because Barnes had been awoken from cryofreeze. Sam would do but he was also unavailable, headed to his sister's for the holiday. She'd warned him that showing up there could be dangerous but he'd reassured her that his sister and her family were capable of keeping his visit a secret, whatever that meant.

Natasha could have just dealt with the loneliness, of course, but she didn't want to. So she got another burner phone and texted the telephone number she had memorized.

 _\- This is Natasha. I'd like to see you. I can be in Bucharest in a few hours._

 _\- Oh, hey. I'm not in Romania at the moment. I'm at my parents' house in England._

 _\- I can be there even faster. I should probably say I have a big secret that I need to tell you before you allow me near your family. It's dangerous._

 _\- I'm sure it's fine. There's a rundown pub in Ottery St Catchpole proper, in Devon._

 _\- I'll see you in an hour._

Natasha landed the Quinjet in stealth mode in a field a good distance away from the village center and walked. She entered, letting her gaze sweep over the interior. It was rundown, planked walls were a muddy brown and the entire place smelt like stale beer. It was also mostly empty, though it was only early afternoon. People coming home from their day jobs might stop in for dinner and a pint.

Besides the bartender, there was only one other occupant. She spotted his fiery red hair first and recognized him by the mischievous smile on his lips. He looked older than she remembered, though she knew they were both in their forties now. Having been given some form of the serum made her appear quite a bit younger these days. He held his age well. His hair was shoulder length but still as red as she remembered, his eyes a clear blue with a few wrinkles that made him distinguished. He still kept his face clean-shaven though there might have been a day's worth of stubble on his chin.

She joined him at the booth and his smile for her was warm and fond, reinforcing her decision to contact him.

"It's so good to see you, Natasha. How's life been treating you?"

"With indifference, mostly."

He nodded, accepting her answer without prodding further and asked, "Would you like a pint here? Mum's got cider, hot chocolate, and tea, of course, and there's bound to be a bottle of whiskey to spice it up hidden away somewhere but she tries to keep it out of the house these days. One of my brothers developed a problem with it years back."

Natasha glanced towards the bar. The bartender was eying her suspiciously even as he was wiping down a glass. When he set it down and picked up another, she could hear the tackiness of spilled ale on the wood. She looked away and gave Charlie a little smile. "I'm fine."

"I remember you drowning your emotions in vodka when we first met. You find a better coping method over the years?"

"I remember you joining me in my endeavors to drink myself blind."

Charlie let out a hearty laugh that had the bartender's eyes squinting in his direction instead. "Come on then, let's go for a walk and talk on the way. I can feel John's glare burning a hole in my head from here." He stood from the booth and Natasha followed him out the door into the cold December air.

They walked in companionable silence for several minutes along an old road that was more gravel than asphalt before Charlie looked over at her, giving her another grin. "So, what's your big dangerous secret?"

Now that it was time to share she felt her old habits of wanting to come up with something else prickling along her senses. She licked her lips and drew in a big breath, embracing the sharp feel of cold air inside her lungs. "I'm a spy."

He nodded but didn't say anything, just kept her in his periphery as they strolled along the lane.

"When we first met, I was also an assassin. For the KGB. Later, it was for SHIELD, an American organization. Then when that... went down, I was... an Avenger."

His grin softened and he asked, "Black Widow, right?"

She turned her head away from him for a few moments before nodding. "I voluntarily became a fugitive five months ago."

They walked in silence for another minute or so before he asked. "Why?" There was no hint of judgment in his voice. Not even a curiosity to delve deep into her motives. He would probably be content with some flippant answer but now that she'd shared this much, she felt she should share the rest.

"I made the wrong decision in signing the Sokovia Accords. I thought there would be room to negotiate. There's not. They can detain enhanced individuals indefinitely, they watch their every move. It gives power-hungry madmen carte blanche control over other people."

"Are you an _enhanced individual_?" he asked, again without judgment.

"That's one of the secrets about me that hasn't been uncovered yet. Most assume I'm not."

"And once you realized what they were going to do, you decided it was wrong and turned renegade, huh?" His tone had shifted slightly and there was a thread of humor in his voice.

She looked up at him, feeling puzzled. What about this situation was entertaining for him?

"I suppose it's time to let you in on my little—big—secret. I'm technically considered enhanced. My whole family. Most of my community, really. Or we would be if they knew about us. You're safe here. Any of your friends are safe here."

"There's an entire community of enhanced individuals living in Devon?"

"We're worldwide."

"What can you do?" Her eyes followed his thickly muscular frame. Was it strength-related?

"I'm a wizard."

She stopped walking abruptly, her weight even caused her to wobble with forward momentum. "A wizard? Like red lights and mind reading?"

"That's Scarlet Witch, right? From what I've read about her, her powers were created. Mine are innate. Here, let me show you." He pulled a small wooden dowel from his pocket and held it out in front of him. He pointed it at the half-broken fence nearby and caused the boards to levitate. "That's just one of the many things I can do."

"And it's not just here in Britain?"

"I work with dragons in Romania."

"Dragons?"

He bit his bottom lip and nodded. The action didn't hide his amusement. She resumed walking, then, at a quicker pace. She let her mind analyze every interaction she'd had with him and though there were moments that she thought could have been magic they weren't completely outlandish. Before she could start running through her memory of interactions with everyone she'd ever come into contact with Charlie interrupted her.

He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled gently, turning her to face a tall, narrow house that looked like it would fall over with the slightest breeze. "I needed to tell you because, like I said, my family's all witches and wizards, and you're going to see plenty of magic if you walk through that door with me." He rolled his eyes and added, "Also, my mum's going to go bonkers when she sees you—I've never brought anyone home before. I'll try to field any questions away from you if you want—"

"I can handle it." She was looking at the slapdashed cottage in front of her with something like awe. Beyond it, she could see an apple orchard. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Come on, it'll be cozy-warm inside the Burrow."

She nodded and followed him down the short path that led to the front door.

* . * . *

The inside of the towering cottage was decorated in every conceivable way. There was spruce garland along the tops of the walls, there were sprigs of holly and mistletoe at every doorway. There were dozens of stockings pinned against the walls everywhere rather than just on the mantle. Charlie pointed out his and then with a flick of his wand, created an identical one with her name on it before pulling her down to cuddle on the sofa in front of the blazing fire.

Interestingly, Mrs. and Mr. Weasley didn't notice the extra redhead in their midst until it was time to sit down for dinner. When she was noticed, Mrs. Weasley smiled and fussed over her a little, teasing that it was about time Charlie brought a friend home, before conjuring up an extra place setting next to him. Beyond introductions and a mild interest in how they met—which Charlie fielded as, "on my first vacation after I moved to Romania"—no one pried into Natasha's life.

She was warned that more family would be arriving soon for Christmas. Later, snuggled next to Charlie in his bed under a thick pile of warm blankets, he elaborated on his large family and their past as resistance fighters in their own magical war.

When she thought he was asleep she murmured, "I'm glad I decided to contact you."

"Me too," he whispered.


	7. Kiss and Run

**Kiss and Run**

 _SHIELD liaises with the British Auror Dept for a joint_ _mission. Natasha must work with green non-spy Harry Potter._

Pairing: Natasha/Harry  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Some Violence  
Tropes: Fake Dating, Undercover Work  
Words: 1,333  
Original Release Date: 20 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens in the same universe as Anomalies of Time. (After ch 9, "An Uncommon Proposal")

* * *

When he showed up in the locker room where Natasha was getting ready for their mission, she took one look at him—with his messy black hair, striking green eyes, and easily identifiable lighting-shaped scar on his forehead—and asked, "You've never done undercover work, have you?"

"Not really, no."

She pursed her lips and focused her attention on the scar on his forehead. "You could have at least covered it up."

"It's a cursed scar. Magic can't cover it."

"Ever heard of tattoo-concealing makeup?" she asked, looking him up and down. She supposed he might look decent in the tuxedo hanging on the back of the door. She'd expected to be working with Rumlow and the tux was in his size but he'd been called away on another mission. Rogers could have stepped in, except he was too recognizable and the tux definitely wouldn't fit him. Fury had said he was also busy with _internal matters_ and he wouldn't elaborate. She hauled the man in front of her to the bench and pulled her makeup kit close to her. She didn't have any tattoos but a good agent's kit always had some concealer.

"I'm Harry Potter, by the way." He said though he didn't protest when she used her left hand to brush his hair off of his forehead to dab at his scar with makeup.

"You're John Bartholomew, a millionaire private investor. I'm Melissa Verdinelli, your girlfriend."

He nodded and asked, "And what do you do for a living?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, not answering for a moment while she picked up her brushes. It wouldn't hurt to contour his cheekbones a little. "I'm a ballerina." He was right. She couldn't just be a socialite serial girlfriend if this was her first time around this crowd. How could she forget something so basic?

"So what's our objective?"

"Mingle, plant a virus-tracer into their security systems, ID any suspicious characters, and don't get made."

"Sounds simple enough. I take it you've got the tech I need to use?" he asked, not reacting at all to her applying powder to his face.

"I do," she answered.

* . * . *

It did sound simple enough. But as she spotted the security guard who was following her to the ladies' room she suspected things were going to be a bit more difficult than she'd planned.

Natasha slowed her stride, taking note of all the holiday decorations lining the walls. A quick spin and yank could pull the garland down to use as a garrote. Or the string lights decorating the bust of—was that Lenin? Really? She could also attempt a seduction. If she could lure him into the bathroom she could use the smaller space to her advantage and knock his head into the wall.

She turned and looked under her lashes at the tall, thick guard, quirking her lips and tilting her head just slightly in the direction of the restroom door. He took the bait and followed her into the room.

She started to turn around but before she could his hand grabbed her shoulder and jerked her back. "Hey, what are you—" she didn't let him finish, using his attempt to manhandle her to her advantage. A quick low sweeping kick and a kick to the chest brought him down but it didn't knock the wind from him like she expected. He grabbed her foot and yanked, so she let her body complete the fall, letting her knee fall on his diaphragm and flicking her foot up to knock him in the crotch at the same time. He made an aborted grunt and she punched him twice in the throat and neck, finishing the job. She sighed and stood. She picked his keys from his pocket and grabbed his arm to drag him into the last stall. She tidied her hair in the mirror and then left, glancing back to make sure no one else had followed them.

She slipped down the hall and snuck into the security closet at the end. She plugged the drive into the terminal, counting the three requisite minutes she needed, removed it and left.

Unfortunately, a guest had found the downed guard in the bathroom and started shrieking about it—apparently, she thought he was dead. Natasha took another hall to try and rejoin the crowd in the main room only to run into Potter at the doorway. She pushed him towards the wall and tugged his face down to meet hers, kissing him thoroughly.

When she pulled back, he looked a little stunned. "What the—"

She looked up to the mistletoe above them.

He wasn't fooled. The quick up-down glance he gave her combined with the, "What happened to you?" that he whispered at her told her that her tangle with the security guard had ruffled her up more than she'd thought.

There was a mirror behind him and in it, she spotted someone reaching into their coat pocket. "Shit," she murmured. She grabbed Potter's lapels and spun them back into the hall just as a bullet buried itself into the wall where he'd been standing. "I think we got made."

"You don't have one of those, do you?"

She gave him a look that she hoped conveyed her negative before shoving him and saying, "Run."

He did, dashing down the hallway and pulling her into a side room.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, taking in the fact that they were in a conference room. There was a bank of windows at the far wall but she didn't think any of them opened.

"This," he answered, shaking out a cloak of some sort and pulling it around himself and then pulling her close and covering her with it. He also sent a silent spell to the windows, shattering them out.

"What—?"

"Shh," he said. He was very close to her, embracing her like a lover almost, and his breath was very warm on her neck.

The door they had come through opened and the security guards with guns entered and spread out. They seemed to ignore her and Potter, choosing instead to investigate the smashed window. It was at least sixty stories up and there was absolutely no way they would have survived had they jumped but as they stood there listening, the guards debated on whether they'd have been able to jump to the roof of the nearest building. After a fruitless search and debate, they left, closing the door behind them.

Natasha took a step back when it felt like Potter wasn't going to let go of her and she felt the cloak he'd draped over them slip away. It remained around him and suddenly she understood how the guards had walked right by. The cloak made them invisible.

She reached out and touched it again, watching how her hand disappeared underneath it. "Wow. Talk about handy," she whispered.

Potter grinned. "Glad you approve, Melissa. Did you complete your objective, then?"

At the false name, she looked up at him and recomposed herself. "I did."

"Then shall we go?" He gestured towards the window. "I promise it won't be that way."

"Are we just going to sneak out under this?" she asked, finally letting go of the soft material even as he started stuffing it into his pocket. "Nope. We're just going to Apparate out. Unless you have anything else to do here?"

"I'm good."

"Fantastic. This might be a bit unpleasant," he said. He took her into his arms again for an extended second where Natasha felt like she was being squeezed through a narrow tube before materializing again in the locker room. If she'd eaten anything at the party, it would have almost definitely have made a second appearance at that moment. She swallowed to deal with the nausea and turned to look at him again to see him already starting to take the outer layers of his tuxedo off.

Maybe this Harry Potter wasn't as inept as she'd assumed.


	8. And So Were Her Knickers

**And So Were Her Knickers**

 _Hermione surprises Bucky and Steve by attempting to dress_ _up 40s style. They have fun unwrapping their present._

Pairing: Bucky/Hermione/Steve  
Rating: mature  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: UST  
Words: 1,288  
Original Release Date: 21 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot is a sequel to "The Curtains Were Cotton and Lace."

* * *

Hermione doublechecked her outfit again. Red shirtwaist dress, petticoat, belt. Nylons and high heeled shoes. She knew the shoes weren't vintage but she'd tried for the other items on her list.

She was up early, having pinned her hair the night before but it still wasn't cooperating with her. She combed some Sleekeazy through it and told herself it was good enough.

It still bothered her. She wanted everything to be perfect. It was her second Christmas with Steve and their first proper one with Bucky.

Steve woke up next and stumbled his pyjama-clad self into the living room.

"Happy Christmas," she said, drawing his attention to her.

He blinked blearily at her before fully focusing on the picture she made. She was sitting on the floor next to the tree like she'd seen in her image searches for 'Christmas pin-up.' He tilted his head at her and pursed his lips.

She attempted a smile but the longer the silence continued the more she felt it slip off her face. Finally, she couldn't stop herself from asking, "What's wrong with it?"

He raised his eyebrows, still looking her over and then called behind him. "Hey Bucky, come out here."

Bucky, even less a morning person, followed obediently. He stopped in the doorway to see what Steve was looking at. "Oh. Hey, doll." He gave her a sweet smile that eased her nerves.

"It's a little off, isn't it Buck?" Steve asked. Hermione could almost hear the hint of a tease in the timbre of his voice.

"Hmm," Bucky said, looking at her now with a more critical air. "Maybe."

"How far off?" she asked, resisting the urge to tug on the fabric of her skirt. Instead, she clasped her hands tighter in her lap. She'd wanted this to be special and here they were critiquing her present.

"A decade or so," Steve admitted.

Hermione's jaw dropped. "What? No, I researched!"

They both chuckled at her.

"Here, stand up for me," Bucky said, coming closer and offering his hands out to her. She did, proud of herself when she didn't twist her ankle in the shoes. "Well, first off, the shoes are all wrong."

"I know that."

"Just so you know," he said. He walked around her, eyeing her up and down. She felt like prey. He clicked his tongue once or twice in his slow circuit around her. When he was behind her he came up close and put his hands on either side of her hips. "Second," he whispered. She felt him sink to his knees and then his hands were sliding up her legs under her skirt. He grabbed hold of the petticoat and jerked, pulling it free from where it was tucked under the belt at her waist. "The silhouette's wrong. Fabric was rationed, all this extra fluff didn't come until later." His words were quiet and spoken next to her hip as he helped her step out of the petticoat. "The nylons and garter are almost right."

"Almost?" she asked, tilting her head down to look at him.

"Mmhmm," he hummed, and then he put his hands on her hips and turned her around. She spun and his grip kept her from falling over. "What's missing, Steve?" He reached around her and she felt him draw his finger up the back of her leg and her thigh all the way to the hem of the skirt.

"Seams."

"You could draw them on for her."

"That might be fun."

"What else is wrong with it?" Hermione asked biting her lip. She felt decidedly ridiculous now. Bucky was still on his knees in front of her and her back was to Steve. Bucky leaned back and played with the hem of her skirt as he looked her up and down. He flipped it up and let it fall so his head was under her skirt. "Bucky!"

"Just checking for authenticity, sweetheart," he murmured. She could feel the heat of his breath through her layers. "Slip's right, garter's right, no girdle," he clicked his tongue again and shook his head. He bunched up her slip to get a look at her knickers. "And these!"

She felt his fingertip tracing the pattern of lace on her knickers over her mound. She knew those weren't authentic either but she found them much sexier than the full-coverage knickers that were the fashion then.

"You know, I think the belt's too wide," Steve said stepping closer to her. His hands came around her waist and unbuckled it. He then tossed it to the side where it landed on her discarded petticoat.

"You should check her bra, Steve."

Steve hummed. "Should I?" His fingers played with the buttons on her dress, flicking at them lightly before unfastening one and then teasing at the next.

She felt Bucky tug down the front of her lacy knickers. "This is definitely a modern touch," he said and then he licked her mons pubis with a slow drag of his tongue. She'd used a shaving spell the night before so her skin was just the slightest bit rough. Her breath caught in her throat when he did it a second time.

She tipped her head back to rest it against Steve's chest and let her eyes fall shut. She shivered when Bucky licked her again.

"Hmm, the bra looks right, I think, Buck," Steve whispered. His tone had turned husky and she shivered again when he let his fingertips glide along the centre seams of the cups across her nipples.

She opened her eyes and looked down. Steve had unbuttoned her dress completely and Bucky was looking up at her breasts. "It's a little too rounded, maybe. We're taking things off if they're not quite authentic, right?" he asked with a grin.

"Yeah," Steve said. His gaze was focused further down, where Bucky's fingers were still playing with the lace he'd bunched up. He flattened it back out. "They may not be right but I like the lace."

"But they're definitely not authentic. Got to take them off, doll," Bucky whispered. She felt him reach under her garter and tug her knickers down. The gusset was damp and she felt it leave a trail of wetness as he slipped them down her thighs and legs. At the same time, Steve leaned back just enough to unfasten her bra. He pushed the straps and her dress down her arms and let them both fall away.

Her put-together look was down to slip, garters, stockings, and shoes. They leaned away from her to take in her dishevelled state. "Where's your eye pencil, sweetheart," Steve asked, even as he embraced her again, letting his warm hands cover her breasts. He rubbed his fingertips along the satin slip over her nipples and Hermione's breath caught again.

With more concentration than she thought she had, Hermione summoned the pencil from the other room. Steve caught it and then knelt behind her. Bucky reached up and cupped the back of her neck to bring her down to kiss him. She bent at the waist to do it and felt the cool, pointed tip of her makeup pencil at the back of her right ankle.

Steve worked quickly but that didn't detract from the sensual touch. When he was done, he dropped the pencil into the pile of removed clothes and stepped back to get a better look.

Bucky stood too and dug his fingers through her hair, mussing it up as he kissed her more thoroughly. After another moment he pulled away and stepped back too. "Spin, babydoll." She did, this time enjoying the way their gaze devoured her.

"Perfect," Steve said as she faced him and she couldn't help but smile.


	9. We'll Have to Muddle Through Somehow

**We'll Have to Muddle Through Somehow**

 _The quartet goes caroling_ _._

Pairing: Bucky/Hermione/Peggy/Steve  
Rating: general  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: caroling  
Words: 2,064  
Original Release Date: 22 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens between _Anomalies of Time_ chapters 9 ("An Uncommon Proposal") and 10 ("A Soldier of Winter") as well as between Twelve Days of Xover Xmas chapter 7 "Kiss and Run" and 10 "Unexpected Guest."

* * *

No one ever said relationships were neat and easy and if someone had, Bucky would like to set them straight on the matter after a good wallop on the back of the head. Things had been tentative over the last five months, with double dates where the lines between couples were blurred. He and Peggy had had a slow introduction to modern times and open magic, though it upset him to see how prejudice still abounded. Peggy and Hermione had gone shopping, Steve had pestered him into seeing a doctor after he mentioned his prosthetic pinching, and their apartments were magically combined into one. Things started to fall into a new normal.

Peggy was introduced to the current director of SHIELD and went on more missions than Bucky did. He tried not to feel upset about that, he did have a disability after all, but being overlooked as a good agent chafed. He mentioned it to Peggy and shortly thereafter started receiving offers to go out on assignments with Hermione. Having a partner who had magic and could use it openly changed the game and it gave him a chance to get to know Hermione better.

By the middle of December, Bucky had also talked to three specialists, an engineer, a roboticist and Tony Stark about a new prosthetic. Stark promised it would be ready by Christmas but beyond that wouldn't elaborate on design. All Bucky'd asked was that it not be red.

Someone had signed them up for caroling and left the flyer on the kitchen table. So that's how he found himself, bundled up against the surprisingly chilly, wet DC weather with a group of strangers getting ready to sing Christmas songs. Hermione had sent a text saying she'd meet them at the park where they were gathering but he, Steve, and Peggy shared a cab. When they arrived, there were about a dozen adults and half as many children. Many of them were wearing cloaks. Bucky paused in his stride and murmured under his breath, "We weren't supposed to dress in costume or something, were we?"

Steve answered, just as quietly. "Not that I know of."

One of the cloaked people turned around and smiled in their direction. Steve approached her and kissed her cheek and suddenly Bucky recognized her. Hermione was wearing a white cable-knit sweater and jeans under her dark green cloak. He was glad they weren't supposed to dress like Dickens characters or something.

One of the other cloaked people turned around and Bucky focused on her. She had kind eyes and a wide smile. She too was dressed normally except for the cloak and she was holding a toddler. She looked around at the others and introduced herself to the small gathering. "Hi, I'm Tamara. I'm technically not the host of the event but I am the backup. The host had a family emergency so I'm filling in. Thing is, I don't actually live around here, so you guys are going to have to make sure we don't get lost. I know the host had planned for the last stop to be the AFRH on Rock Creek Church, which according to Google Maps is a ten-minute walk in that direction," she said on a laugh, pointing roughly west. She had a slight accent that was an odd mix of Southern and French. She went on to list about eighteen songs they were going to cycle through. Most of them Bucky knew, though he probably wouldn't remember all the words.

Steve voiced a similar problem. "I don't know a few of these."

"Good thing I took care of that," Tamara said smiling. She took out a wand and turned to an older child. "Hold that out for me honey," she instructed and then tapped the notebook four times. Suddenly the child was holding five notebooks. He passed them out but kept the last one and she repeated the process for the next little group.

When Bucky opened it, he noticed that there were lyric pages for the four basic vocal parts. He found his parts and had a glance over the words as Tamara led them through the first verse of the first song in the book. Once everyone was relatively settled on which part they should sing—with the kids being a free-for-all—they set out. The houses in this neighborhood were close together so the group would stand on the sidewalk and two of the kids would knock on the doors of two of the houses then come scurrying back to their parents to join in the singing.

There were a few mishaps. Someone's voice cracking on a note that was a bit too high or too low for them, no one being home at a few houses, a child tripping and scraping their knee on the concrete. Bucky would have expected Tamara to be the one to soothe the child but instead, he watched as Hermione knelt near the little boy and talked with him. Then she healed the small scrape with her wand. When she stood, the little boy reached up and held her hand.

Bucky smiled and looked up, catching Steve and Peggy watching the interaction too. There was a brief pang in his heart. In the past, he'd had a family with Peggy. He wondered if that was a possibility for their future now. He had trouble imagining it. Both Peggy and Hermione were very dedicated to their careers and he couldn't picture either of them making the decision to have a child, especially with the crash course of birth control options they'd been presented with months ago.

Somehow they ended up repeating the same four songs because the kids would just start singing without direction. It wasn't until they got to the retirement home that Tamara suggested a few of the less used ones, including ending with "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas."

They didn't stand outside at the retirement home, they were ushered inside to a large common space where a group of elderly men and women were sitting. Some were in wheelchairs, others had walkers or canes nearby. Plenty of the men were wearing caps that declared them veterans. At least three of them said World War II on them and Bucky swallowed at seeing their wrinkled features.

"I want a cap," Peggy whispered, which caused Bucky and Steve to both snort soft little chuckles. They sang the first two songs back to back and the residents danced along in their seats. A few of them sang along too.

Between the second and third song, another caregiver came out from a hallway and one of the children that had stuck close to Tamara all night shrieked and ran to him, shouting "Uncle Sam!" which had Steve glancing back at Bucky with a quick smirk. The third song was one of those that Bucky didn't know—"Silver Bells" copyright 1951 according to the top of the page—but they'd gone through it once already and it was easy enough to hum along. While he was humming along he noticed Sam was watching the group with a smile on his face, though every so often his eyes would track back to Steve. Bucky had seen that look on others' faces before, both in the past and here in the future. That was the face of someone who recognized Captain America.

Tamara started their last song and Bucky closed his eyes. He could still almost hear the Judy Garland version he heard on the war front. He even remembered how that was the only time he saw Dum Dum cry.

By the bridge, the three voices on his left had dropped out. In front of him, though, he could hear a few new voices. A bass, surprisingly clear from someone so old, and an alto, a little flat but with just as much feeling. The children had stopped singing too. On the last line, Bucky opened his eyes to see it was just him, Steve, and Peggy still singing along with two of the WWII vets. Everyone else was looking at them with shiny eyes.

"I've never heard that version before," Hermione said in the ringing silence, "That was beautiful."

The bass vet responded, "Sinatra changed the lyrics back in '57. I'm surprised any of you know Judy Garland's version."

Sam leaned over and said, "I think that's because these three might have first heard it when you did." His eyes were on Steve's face, watching for a reaction.

"Nah, they're all too young," one of the others said but now Bucky could feel the gaze of many of the people on him. He remembered all too well the cameras that followed Steve and the rest of them around back then. He glanced at Peggy but she didn't look as worried about being recognized. Steve, on the other hand, was looking down bashfully with a grin on his face.

Sam stepped forward and offered his hand. "Sam Wilson."

"Steve Rogers," Steve replied, finishing the handshake. Then he gestured at Peggy and Bucky. "Peggy Carter and Bucky Barnes."

Sam rocked back on his heels and looked at them. "I read about your miraculous recovery. Hadn't heard a whisper about anyone else."

Hermione interjected quietly. "It's a little complicated. Magic and all."

"And that's Hermione Granger!" Tamara called, joining them. "Remember me freaking out when the Statute of Secrecy was broken? About the war that had been going on in Britain?" she said, speaking to her brother. Around them, the children and the other adults split off to talk with some of the residents.

"Ah, right. Potter, Granger, Weasley at the forefront." He turned and offered his hand to her too. "Nice to meet you." He addressed the four of them when he said, "Thanks for singing for us. That was something special."

"Our pleasure," Steve said. Bucky could see the look in Steve's eyes that said he'd just made a new friend. Bucky walked towards the vets to mingle. Peggy joined him.

"You do look awfully familiar," the bass vet said as they approached. He was looking at Peggy with a puzzled expression on his face.

"My name's Peggy Carter."

He gave his own name as John and shook her hand and then turned to offer the same to Bucky. Bucky introduced himself and knelt to talk further with the man. After they'd been talking for a few minutes he stopped mid-sentence and then said, "You're Captain America's girl."

She laughed and nodded, looking first at Bucky and then over her shoulder at Steve. "Yes. I am."

Bucky felt no desire to insist otherwise nor did he feel any jealousy. He smiled. A little while later, Hermione joined them, stepping between him and Peggy. She waited for a break in the conversation before saying, "I've hired a car. Should be here in ten minutes." Her phone was in her hand and she waved it back and forth as she spoke.

John harrumphed at her and Bucky noticed he was eyeing her cloak.

He'd seen enough people have snide comments about her as a witch and he didn't want her to hear another so he said, "Internet—so helpful," to hopefully play on how times had changed.

It didn't stop John. "They shouldn't be wearing cloaks. Just marks them out in a crowd, like yellow patches. They can blend in and they ought."

Bucky was conflicted. He didn't think choosing to wear a cloak was anything like being forced to wear a patch as a Jew but he felt like he could see the other side of that argument too. Wizards had been in hiding so long... wearing a cloak in public was reclaiming part of their culture as far as Bucky could tell. It was complicated and he didn't know what to say. Thankfully, Peggy redirected the conversation to something less contentious.

When they finally arrived back home, Steve announced. "I'd like to cuddle. On a bed."

Bucky looked at Peggy and Hermione as they looked at him. They'd all cuddled on the couch before while watching a movie or something but they hadn't progressed to a bedroom yet. Peggy turned her attention to Steve and asked, "Do you have a preference?"

"Nope."

Bucky was gleeful to find out that four fully-grown adults could cuddle on one of these new "king" sized beds.


	10. Unexpected Guest

**Unexpected Guest**

 _An unexpected guest crashes Christmas at Avengers Tower and steals Stark's moment._  
Pairing: Bucky/Hermione/Steve/Peggy, Pepper/Tony  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: mentions of torture and killing, references to acts committed during wartime, possibly insensitive handling of canon HP magic with regards to a disabled character, disabled character  
Tropes: none  
Words: 3,213  
Original Release Date: 23 Dec 2018  
Additional Notes: This holiday one-shot happens between _Anomalies of Time_ chapters 9 ("An Uncommon Proposal" and 10 ("A Soldier of Winter") as well as after Twelve Days of Xover Xmas chapter 9 "We'll Have to Muddle Through Somehow."

* * *

Steve and Hermione had been invited to celebrate Christmas at Avengers Tower and by extension so had Bucky and Peggy. They took a commercial flight on the twenty-third because they were either idiots or—no, they were just idiots.

Bucky was staring at the plane ceiling and counting back from a hundred. When the turbulence had started, Hermione had turned white and then green, and was now leaning forward holding one of the fancy barf bags. Peggy was rubbing her back but had her other hand holding her book in her lap. She looked a little pale as well. Steve, the punk, didn't seem to be affected and was watching the onboard Christmas movie with a little smile on his face.

The plane had kids on it and they were noisy, especially so when the turbulence ramped up.

Bucky felt his stomach flip and he swallowed the excess saliva pooling in his mouth. "Can Muggles use Portkeys? I think you should start a business making Portkeys more widely used," he muttered.

He heard the slightest snort and giggle from the woman on his right and smiled. He liked making her laugh. Bucky let his gaze drop from the ceiling to the television. He'd already missed the first half of the thing and it was almost time to land, so they'd miss the end too. He wasn't interested in just watching part of a movie.

Finally, he felt the plane start its descent and he breathed a sigh of relief. Hermione sat up and pressed her back into the seat. She reached out to grab the seat arms and ended up clamping onto his and Peggy's hands. "You're okay, darling," Peggy whispered.

"How come the Quinjet doesn't bother you like this?" Bucky asked.

"Because I'm usually the one flying it. I don't like flying when I'm not in control. So commercial flights, broomsticks where you have to trust someone else's magic, Thestrals and dragons have their own mind... it's just...ngh."

"Broomsticks, huh? I thought that was just a myth."

She shook her head as well as she could where she had it pressed into the seat. "Nope. There's even a line of deluxe vacuum cleaners that fly now."

"Really?"

"Yep. CEO of Electrolux happened to be a wizard. Marketed it for 'the discerning housewitch of the modern era' after the Secrecy ban collapsed."

"You're bullshitting me, aren't you?"

She grinned just as the wheels touched down. Two more children started screeching. Even Peggy sighed at that.

* . * . *

Avengers Tower was ugly.

Then again, Bucky thought most modern architecture was ugly so maybe he wasn't the best judge. The inside was nice looking and reminiscent of another Stark in its extravagance. They exited the elevator into a spacious living room and were greeted with a chorus of hellos. Stark was wearing a Santa hat. Next to him was a leggy strawberry-blonde with a happy smile on her face. Around the room were a few other people; Bucky recognized Barton and Romanoff.

"Oh, hey. Come in, come in. Just sit anywhere. Quick introductions, Pepper this is Captain America, his old flame, his new flame, and his right-hand man..." he went on to quickly say the names of the other people present but Bucky was feeling awkward. He almost wished he was attempting to juggle an obnoxiously large present or two but all the presents were in Hermione's nifty little bag. Instead, he just ratcheted his prosthetic at the elbow so he could sit down rather than tuck the claw into his pocket.

Stark noticed and his smile took on a manic look but before he could say anything, a giant silvery-blue dog ghost-thing came running into the room. It stopped in front of Hermione and spoke with Sirius's voice.

"I was going to spend the holiday with Harry and his in-laws but it turns out Molly and I still don't get along and it makes you and I look positively chummy. I also could have spent it with my cousin Andromeda but she's spending it with Ted's Muggle family and they still think I'm a criminal from that time I broke out of prison, so... can I spend Christmas with you? I mean, I'd send this to Bucky but he can't respond and I figure once I get to wherever you are, you can send me wherever he is..."

The dog finished rambling and then sat down, tilting his enormous head at an angle before fading away.

Hermione looked at Bucky and then at Stark. "Would it be too inconvenient to add another guest?"

Stark answered with a question, "What was that about prison?"

At the same time, Ms. Potts nodded her head and said, "We don't mind at all."

Hermione nodded, seeming to listen to Ms. Potts rather than Stark and conjured her own silver-blue animal. It was an otter and it danced around for a moment before she gave it a message telling Sirius where they were. After she sent her little ghost otter away she turned to Stark.

"Sirius was falsely imprisoned for twelve years in the eighties and early nineties. Though his name has been cleared since 1998 in the Wizarding World, the Muggle World never found that information newsworthy. His escape from the high-security prison was so shocking—no one had ever escaped from that particular prison before—that they put out a countrywide manhunt for him. It probably wouldn't be so bad if he were named John Smith or something but Sirius Black is pretty distinctive."

"You think I'm pretty?" Sirius asked, from the elevator. He chuckled as he walked into the room even as Hermione flicked her wand in his direction. He seemed to parry her attempt with his hand but there didn't seem to be much animosity in the interaction. He was dressed oddly like he'd stepped out of the past, though not the past Bucky was used to. He was wearing a burgundy coat over a black waistcoat and green shirt, and striped black-on-black trousers. His chin-length hair was tied back out of his face and he'd shaved his mustache. He looked happy. He was unfastening his vibrant green cloak with one hand and in the other, carrying a tall, square case.

He waved at Bucky and Peggy as Hermione introduced him around and then settled on the floor with his back against an unoccupied chair. He pointed at Potts and Stark. "Host and hostess, right?" he asked, then opened a drawer on the bottom of the box and reached in deeper than the compartment would normally allow. He pulled out a plant and a bottle. He passed both to them. The plant had beautiful copper-colored leaves on it.

"Is that a Niffler's Fancy?" Hermione asked, sounding a little awestruck.

"Yep."

"I've never seen one in person, they're so rare."

"Getting my name cleared and showing up alive meant I was allowed in the family vault again. Found some seeds in storage under stasis."

"Is this real copper?" Potts asked, lightly touching a leaf.

"No, but the leaves were once used as currency which contributed to them becoming so rare," Sirius said. He bit his lip like he was nervous.

"It's gorgeous, thank you," Potts said. She gave him a smile that seemed to ease his worry.

"The bottle's Ogden's Firewhiskey."

Stark's eyebrows rose a little. "Firewhiskey, huh? That sounds interesting."

"It's good," Bucky said in an endorsement.

Stark turned his attention back to Bucky. "Right, your present first because it's the coolest." He stood up and hefted a large red case up from beside his chair. He brought it over and laid it on Bucky's lap. Bucky eyed the red, flamboyant case for a moment before flipping the latch. Inside was something even more high tech than what the roboticist had shown him. Instead of just looking like the thin robotic arms he'd seen prototypes of, it actually looked like an arm with musculature and definition. This would be why Stark had asked for the upper body scan when they first started talking about it. "Wow. It's..." Bucky couldn't seem to find words.

"Well, it's heavy—I mean, if I had some I'd have made it out of vibranium but it is what it is. There are drawbacks to this sort of stuff, unfortunately. You'll need two surgeries to make it usable. One to reroute the nerves that were connected to your hand to your skin which will allow you to have sensory input and the other to reinforce your spine and ribs because to get it to look that good it had to be heavy."

Bucky felt his eyes go wide at that information.

"Is it permanent?" Peggy asked. She leaned over and laid her hand on his knee, ostensibly to balance herself and get a better look at the arm; Bucky was sure it was to reassure him as well.

Bruce Banner, one of the men around the room that had been introduced earlier answered, "Yes. Otherwise, the reinforcing on his spine will pull him lopsided." He turned his gaze on Bucky. "You'll also need to have a more focused exercise regimen to keep your core toned so you don't develop scoliosis."

Sirius cleared his throat and Stark turned to look at him. "Well, before you commit to all that, let me just give you my present. If you will." Stark closed the case and set it on the floor at Bucky's feet, then returned to his seat. Sirius looked at his case and pointed to the top of it. "That's right. To Bucky Carter—"

Steve, Peggy, and Hermione all snorted.

"What? She's not taking his name, he might as well go by hers, right?" he teased.

"I don't think so," Bucky said. "Here, I'll get you a pen. B-A-R—"

"I can spell it!"

"There's an E in there, you know."

Sirius laughed and opened the top of the case, pulling out a tall bottle. The top was shaped like a skull and the neck like a set of ribs. The label read, "Skelegro."

Hermione gasped. "Why didn't I think of that?"

Steve was the one to ask, "What's Skelegro?"

Sirius gestured to the bottle and Steve picked it up to read the fine print. "1100 drops. Bone Regenerator. Bone-fide results every time. Sold only by Reubens Winkius and Company."

"Well, if it was just the bone I was missing, that might be—"

"What do you think the rest of these potions are for?" Sirius asked, gesturing to the case where there were at least twenty little bottles tucked neatly into cubbies. "You'd already been seen by so many people back in the day that even if I could have got all the potions, you would have had a hell of a time explaining to people how you grew your arm back that it just wasn't feasible. Now though, with the Secrecy repeal, well."

Bucky swallowed and blinked. Magic could regrow his arm? "Why didn't the people who found me at the bottom of that ravine use that?"

"Aside from only being licensed to be brewed by the one company, it's a notoriously difficult potion to brew. They probably weren't very skilled at potions," Hermione said.

"Not to mention that one of the ingredients is werewolf saliva that has to be gathered on the night of the full moon, which made it a particularly difficult ingredient to obtain without being bitten or torturing the werewolf. It was made much more readily obtainable after the Wolfsbane Potion was invented. Remus and I bottled some up and selling it is what got me by after James and Lily went into hiding."

"Werewolf saliva?" Potts asked. Her eyes were wide too, like the topic of conversation was just too shocking to be believed. Bucky was still reeling. Magic could _regrow_ his arm.

"Yes," Hermione answered. "It's the regenerative properties since, under the full moon, a human inflicted with lycanthropy basically has their body torn apart and put back together in such a short span of time. It's pretty scary to witness."

Sirius shrugged. "Eh, you get used to it. Just makes your heart ache for your friend when the screaming starts. Speaking of werewolves, there has been a significant drop in new cases of lycanthropy since the war. I know they don't have a tally of who killed who, but I'd like to think that Remus got his due—" Hermione squirmed in her seat a little, "You? You killed Fenrir Greyback?"

"He was ravaging one of my former dormmates. I just wanted him to stop."

Sirius's expression turned curious. "Werewolves don't go down easy. D'you use the Killing Curse?"

Hermione had started to look uncomfortable. "I've never used the Killing Curse."

"Then you used a Dark spell, huh? Indulge me, which spell did you use?"

She shifted in her seat. "I thought you detested the Dark Arts."

He shrugged again, "I find them abhorrent but that didn't stop me from reading about them. I mean, did you see the books on the Dark Arts in my family's library?"

"The Thousand Shards of Silver," she murmured.

"Really? That was originally a torture spell, not meant to actually kill." He paused to take in the way the color had slipped from Hermione's face and added, "You didn't actually disengage the spell after you cast it, did you? Tell me, I've always been curious how that one manifests, did he look like a porcupine? Did his skin blister from the silver allergy?"

"Sirius!" Hermione said, sounding horrified and upset.

"Kitten, don't feel sorry for that sick bastard. He bit Remus when Remus was four. He preyed on children. He deserved to suffer and die."

She shook her head and jumped to her feet, muttered excuses and then left the room. Stark was looking a little confused and everyone else in the room also had varying degrees of distress on their face.

"Before things went all torture-y, did they just geek out about werewolves?" Stark asked.

Sirius dropped his head and sighed and then started to get up, "I'll go get her. Sorry, I—"

Bucky held out his hand and gestured for Sirius to sit back down. "I'll go talk to her. Get back to your present giving. I appreciate the... potions."

Sirius gave him a little smile and then looked around the room again, most likely wondering if he might have overstayed his welcome. Bucky stood and left the room. He needed a moment to himself anyway.

Regrow his _arm._ Jesus.

She hadn't gone far, just down the hall and into a room set up like a theatre. She was sitting on one of the chairs forcing her breathing to be steady. She didn't look up when he entered the room. He moved closer and set his hand on her arm. When he touched her, her breath choked off and she started speaking very fast like if she didn't get all the words out before her tears overcame her she would never be able to say them again. "I didn't... I didn't mean to torture anybody. I'm a horrible person, that's a horrible way to die, I shouldn't... I just wanted him to stop. I was too late anyway."

"Shh, you're okay. You can cry. There's no shame in that." She looked up at him with wide, wet eyes and he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "War sucks," he said. "Maybe not all of those people in there have been in a war but three of us have. We know. Sometimes you have to make choices and they may not be the best choices, but you did the best you could."

"I'm sorry I never even thought of Skelegro. Harry had to use it in Second year when a teacher vanished the bones in his arm after it was broken... I just never considered the obvious use of it."

"I'm still shocked that no one else mentioned it. I mean, how are amputees still a thing if magic can just regrow limbs."

"Well, the potions are expensive, taste horrible and the process is intensely painful. Plus, it's magic. Especially here in the States, there's a lot of people who are just anti-wizards and wouldn't take help from us even if it improves their quality of life," she said. He rubbed at her back and she leaned into him. He was glad getting her to talk had stopped her guilt spiral.

He kissed the top of her head and she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. He hugged her back. "I'm sorry he made you upset."

"I'm sorry I ruined Pepper and Tony's holiday party."

"You didn't. I'm sure it's all been brushed aside to continue with the gift giving. Do you think they'll like the presents we got them?"

"I hope so. I don't think anyone in there is anti-wizard so sweets and fun magical gifts shouldn't be a problem," she smiled up at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now, is there a bathroom in here for you to wash your face?" he asked. She pulled out her wand and flicked it at herself. The redness in her eyes and the puffiness around them faded. She raised a brow. He nodded. "Back to looking picture perfect," he answered. She snorted in amusement and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. She froze for a second and then relaxed into it, returning the little kiss. And then, because he was still feeling a bit giddy. "Magic's going to regrow my arm."

She smiled brightly and then leaned up and kissed him. "It sure is. I'm sorry I didn't think of it."

They turned to head back to the main room and Bucky paused. "You don't think Stark's going to be upset that I didn't use his fancy metal one, do you?"

"If anything, he can be mad at Sirius for taking away his spotlight. I don't think he's as much of an egotist to begrudge you an actual flesh and blood arm."

Bucky nodded. When they returned Sirius hurried to apologize. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she nodded and he went on, "So, I don't know if you knew about the mirror that I gave Harry? You know, so we could talk to one another and that he didn't try to use until after I died. Anyway, I made a whole bunch of new ones. Because I know that there are some places that are too magical for cellphones." He reached into his case and pulled out two small compact mirrors that reminded Bucky of the makeup compacts that Peggy used. He handed one to Bucky as he regained his seat and then the other to Hermione where she came around and perched in Steve's lap. Steve smiled and kissed her head, wrapping his arm around her to keep her from falling off.

"So it works just like your other ones? We say the name of the person we want to talk to and they should hear it?"

"Yep. And they work for Muggles too, so everyone in here's got one."

She grinned, glanced at her wristwatch, and then held up her mirror. "Harry Potter."

Bucky could hear her friend answering it from across the room. "Do you know what time it is, Hermione?"

"Yes, I do." She giggled.


	11. Snow of White, Hair of Red

**Snow of White, Hair of Red**

 _What's a Hogwarts Christmas without a snowball fight?_  
Pairing: none  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: Peter Pettigrew is a Jerk, Rated for Language  
Tropes: Hogwarts AU, Marauders Era  
Words: 700  
Original Release Date: 24 Dec 2018  
Thanks to englishghosts for the prompt!

* * *

Tony didn't start it. Nope. Can't pin it on him. He thinks maybe those four Gryffindors did it.

What happened was a well-tossed snowball that landed square on the back of Potter's messy head. After that, a snowball so big around it would have required both of Tony's hands to hold it exploded in Black's face.

"That's war!" Black shouted, bending down to scoop up snow without actually pinpointing where the snow missiles were coming from. He threw it and it splattered powdery snow across Natasha's chest.

"Excuse you! I wasn't a part of this!" she said back, though she did duck behind a tree and start gathering her own pile of snow projectiles. She caught Lupin against the side of the head first followed by another second, smaller ball that caught in Pettigrew's cloak. He freaked out so much from the cold that he stumbled and flopped back into the snow.

"One down!" Tony shouted, Charming another snowball to fly in Potter's direction. Another giant snowball dropped from directly above Potter at the same time and both landed, disorienting him to drop the ball he'd just made and start digging out the excess snow that had slipped past his collar.

"Merlin, who's balls are so big?"

From the tree above Potter came a booming laugh followed by Bucky falling out of the tree and pointing back up at the branches. "He said you had big balls!" he howled. "Did you hear that Clint?"

"One down for us!" Black hooted in excitement. He then took aim and tossed the snowball he'd made at Clint where he was high up in the branches. While his back was turned, Tony tossed another three in quick succession at him.

Potter scooped up more snow but before he tossed the newest snowball he shouted, "Evans! Help us out; they've got more people on their team!"

Evans had just come down the path on her way up from Hogsmeade. She looked back and forth at the two teams, Marauders vs Avengers. Tony wasn't sure where Bruce and Steve were but he had a feeling when they showed up, their snowballs would be even better than the stockpile Natasha was gathering from behind her tree.

Tony Charmed another snowball in Lupin's direction just as Natasha landed a small one at his wrist above his glove, causing snow to stick to the exposed skin there. He aimed the one he had at her instead of at Tony.

A snowball, or more accurately the bottom of a giant snowman, came rolling down the hill. It gathered speed faster than it should have and rolled right into Potter, Lupin, and Black knocking all three of them down. It broke apart in an explosive poof against a small group of trees on the other side of the path. Pettigrew had just stood back up and looked completely confused at what to do with three of his teammates down to a giant snowball. He turned and tossed his small snowball at Bucky. It hit him across the face so hard that it knocked him back. And when he looked up there was a red mark across his face.

"Hey, no rocks, asshole!" Bucky yelled.

"Who's packing their snowballs!" Steve shouted from the top of the hill. He rushed down to join the fray proper and to stand his short, skinny self next to his best friend. Bruce followed a bit slower and there was tension in his shoulders. He was probably already starting to put together his prefect lecture for all of them for putting rocks in their balls.

Suddenly there was a hail of small snowballs bombarding the lot of them—Pettigrew, Tony, the downed trio and even Clint still up in the tree.

Tony thought he'd braced himself well enough but there was just such a flurry of snow that he ended up falling over just like the rest of them. When the storm of snow stopped, Evans and Natasha were standing where Natasha's pile of snowballs had been.

"Girls win!" They shouted and then raced up the hill. With their backs turned, all Tony could see was two heads of red hair and black cloaks fluttering behind them.


	12. A Part of the Family

**A Part of the Family**

 _Darcy spends her second Christmas with the Weasley clan._

Pairing: Darcy/Ron  
Rating: teen  
Warnings: none  
Tropes: none  
Words: 599  
Original Release Date: 25 Dec 2018

* * *

The first time one of the munchkins said it, it freaked her out. "Aunt Darcy! Come play with us!" She didn't know what to make of it. She wasn't related to these people. She'd only been dating Ron for a few months at the time.

Well, okay, it'd been like eight months which was practically a year when it comes to family gatherings and things, though she wasn't totally sure. She didn't have siblings.

Ron did.

Boy did he. And all of them were as scrumptious as the last. Charlie, in particular, reminded her of Thor, only shorter and more ginger.

Not that she was checking him out or anything. Of course not; she was dating Ron.

Anyway. The sprogs were rambunctious and a little crazy and they ranged from like mid-teen to tot-sized and Darcy had no idea how to talk to them or deal with them aside from smile and nod and stay far away.

This year, she was more prepared. She had still deferred to Ron for presents (gosh it was a lot of presents) but when she heard "Aunt Darcy, come play with us!" She nodded, tucked her hands into her gloves and tromped out into the snow-covered yard with them. Thankfully there were several other adult-like people around to watch the youngest (still tot-sized—or maybe that was a new one?) but the middle-aged ones were okay.

She suggested they make snowmen.

They ended up with an army of snowmen because all of them wanted to make their own. Soon they were having to go further and further afield to get new snow. The middle-sized ankle-biters started following her around on her quest for more snow and soon she found herself surrounded by five of them.

"Aunt Darcy," a little girl with curly red hair and a blue woolly hat whined, "I don't want to make a snowman. They're boring."

"Well... we can make snow angels?" she suggested.

"How do you make a snow angel?" a boy with black hair and green eyes asked with a grin.

"You sort of just, fall back into the snow and flap your arms and legs," she said. They looked at her with no uncertain amount of skepticism. She didn't blame them; that was a horrible explanation. She took a deep breath and said, "Like this!" She fell backward into the snow and swished her arms and legs back and forth.

There was a chorus of giggles and then the muffled sound of all of them running away.

She muttered a curse to herself and sat up to see all five running back towards the tall, narrow house. She struggled to her feet and sighed as snow slip between her coat layers. She trudged back through the trampled snow to the house. Ron greeted her at the door. "I probably should have warned you. They're starting to understand the joys of pranks," he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Though they've been told to only prank members of the family." She smiled to herself; they thought of her as family. She probably should have figured that out with them calling her Aunt Darcy and all but sometimes it was nice to have another reminder.

"I probably should have known they were old enough to know how to make snow angels."

Ron snorted. "Yeah, maybe that one is on you. Come in here to the kitchen. I'll get you some hot chocolate to warm you up." She grinned cheekily and raised her eyebrows at him and he smirked back, adding in a whisper at her temple, "Maybe later."


End file.
